Bridge of Dreams

Chapter 28

Lee stowed his pack and Michael’s in the wooden shed Jeb had built a few years ago. It wasn’t big, but it held all his gear when he was traveling, and had plenty of shelves for jars of food and other cooking supplies. And while it didn’t have heat, he could spread his sleeping bag on the floor in bad weather instead of getting wet.

Now it would hold all the gear for several people who hoped Kobrah’s memory of someone called The Voice would resonate strongly enough to bring them near the access point where Glorianna, Danyal, and Yoshani crossed over to Vision.

Even though he wouldn’t be gone long, he closed the shed’s door out of habit before he strode back to the spot he thought of as the island’s front door—that space between two trees where the path into the island’s center began.

As he stepped off the island to get the next packs, he noticed the woman hurrying to reach him before he disappeared again. The red hair stood out, even with his diminished eyesight.

“Sholeh,” he said, offering nothing and asking for nothing.

“We want to help.”

She sounded breathless, but he couldn’t tell if that was because she rushed to reach him or was nervous about being seen talking to him. It was clear to everyone that there was a serious problem between the mothers and daughters, but none of the Tryad were willing to discuss the reason Zeela had tried to sabotage the border between Tryadnea and the Den.

Of course, he didn’t think any of the Tryad realized Zeela had been influenced by another heart.

“Please,” Sholeh whispered.

“Grab that pack.” He pointed to one he hoped she could carry. If she couldn’t, Zeela would lend some muscle.

Settling the strap of one pack over his shoulder, he picked up another and held out his hand—and felt her hesitate, saw her body turn as if checking to make sure no one saw her touch him.

“Maybe you should go back to the house,” he said.

“No.”

He huffed out a breath. “Then you’re going to have to grow enough spine to take my hand, because you’re not going to get on the island any other way.”

She hesitated a moment too long, but when he turned away, she grabbed his hand.

He stepped up on the island and heard her gasp as he—and her hand—disappeared.

“Take a step up, like you’re climbing a stair,” he said.

She did. When she appeared, he drew her a couple steps farther along the path, then released her hand.

He headed for the shed. The island wasn’t big, but the trees and plantings kept areas of it private. “Say what you came to say.”

“We want to help,” Sholeh said, puffing as she struggled to keep up. “Kobrah trusts Zhahar more than anyone else here. And when I was attending school in Vision, I found a map of the bazaar and the part of The Temples that is open to everyone, so I can help you find the inner parts of The Temples. And Zeela can help if there’s a fight.”

And all of you really want to get away from Morragen Medusah a Zephyra. Why? “Tell me why Zeela tried to break the border. Then we can talk about your helping.”

He heard that buzzing that indicated the sisters were having a furious discussion. Letting them fight it out, he opened the shed’s door and went in to store the two packs. When he turned, she was blocking the door, and he could tell by the way she held the pack with one hand that he wasn’t dealing with Sholeh anymore.

“It wasn’t just me,” Zeela said. “It was all three of us. But Sholeh would be more wounded than me by our mothers’ wrath, and if Zhahar were blamed…” Her voice caught.

“Why?” he asked quietly.

“Because Zhahar loves you,” she replied, heat and temper in her voice now. “She loves you, and we want her to be able to love you. But Sholeh and I didn’t want to die! If we were somewhere the Tryad couldn’t reach, if we were somewhere our laws didn’t have to be upheld…And why should that terrible law be upheld? Why should two aspects be condemned because the third has a chance to be loved?”

He understood the words, but he couldn’t make sense of them. What was clear to him was that Zeela had her own reasons for taking the blame for the border fading, regardless of whether she was contaminated by someone else. “What law? What are you talking about?”

“We are Tryad,” Sholeh replied, her voice trembling. “We are one who is three and three who are one. But if an aspect loves deeply enough to become a…wife…of a man of single aspect, by law the Tryad must be merged so the three are truly one.”

A chill went through Lee. “But you’re not three facets of a single personality. You’re three people, three sisters, who share a physical core but are distinct in every other way.”

“Some things remain,” Sholeh said. “Knowledge, mostly. Information. Sometimes physical skills, to some degree.”

He shook his head. “You’re talking about killing two of your sisters in order to have a man. That’s…Guardians and Guides, do you realize how cruel that is?”

“Of course we do!” Zeela shouted. “But it’s Tryad law, set down generations ago.”

“Why?” he demanded. “Because long ago two sisters had the same man for a lover and ended up killing or destroying the third when they fought over him?”

“That’s one reason. Another is that your kind considers us an abomination, a freak of nature at best. At worst, we’re a breed of demon.”

“My kind? So far my kind has made every effort to welcome you.”

“Limited exceptions,” she snapped.

He scrubbed his fingers over his head. “So what happens? You have sex with a man who isn’t Tryad and wake up the next morning as one person?”

Sholeh came back into view, shaking her head. “Some of us have the magic to merge aspects. The Medusah aspect of the a Zephyra Tryad is one of them. But the sisters who are going to be absorbed can’t fight the merging. If they do, the merging doesn’t always take properly.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Sometimes they become like single-aspect people who have more than one personality but only one body. We saw one at the Asylum before Shaman Danyal came to be Keeper. At first we thought it was a damaged Tryad, but it wasn’t.”

“What happened to that inmate?”

“They died. One of them got angry and stabbed another, and they all died.”

Bits and pieces of information shifted into a new pattern. “One-face,” Lee said grimly. “You use it as an insult for those of single aspect, but it was originally a label, a condemnation, of a Tryad who sacrificed her sisters for a lover.”

Zhahar came into view. “It still is.”

He moved closer to her. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

“I told you being with you was taboo.”

“Yeah. You did. I guess for someone who has spent half his life around the Den of Iniquity, ‘taboo’ doesn’t have much meaning without context.” His throat tightened. “But I understand now, and I’m sorry my actions put you in the position of thinking you had to choose.”

He couldn’t see the tears in her eyes, but he saw the shine of them on her cheeks.

“I love you enough to consider it. Even between Tryads, there are few partnerships like your people have. There is loyalty to the children produced from a mating—sometimes—but not being able to get away from our siblings doesn’t mean we don’t feel all the wants and jealousies and other things people feel. Love doesn’t touch any of us often. Maybe that’s why we’re punished for finding something the rest can’t have. I do love you, Lee. I love you enough that I would break with my sisters if I could.”

He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. “And I love you enough to step back and let you go. I almost lost my sister, so I know how it feels. I’m not going to be the reason you lose yours.”

“But…”

“No, Zhahar.” He took the pack resting on the ground beside her and set it inside the shed. “Come on. No doubt there are supplies and people piling up, and we need to get moving.”

“It’s getting late in the day,” she whispered.

“Here. Could be dawn in Vision, or it could be the middle of the night.” He nudged her out of the way, slipped out of the shed, and strode for the island’s “front door.”

“Hey-a!” Sebastian yelled. “Lee!”

Lee stood between the trees and sighed. Oh yeah. Plenty of people out there. Michael and Sebastian. The Apothecary and the Knife with his horse. Kobrah. And—wasn’t this going to make the whole thing sweet?—Morragen Medusah a Zephyra. His mother, Jeb, Caitlin, Lynnea, and Teaser were also milling around, but they weren’t going on this journey.

“Stop yelling,” he said as he stepped off the island. “I was just getting something else settled.”

“What…?” Sebastian looked over Lee’s shoulder and lowered his voice. “Oh. Really? Now?”

“Not that.” Lee closed his eyes and counted to ten. Then he opened his eyes and shifted a little closer to his cousin. “Let’s just say some things have been decided, and the a Zephyra Tryad doesn’t have to worry about their daughters anymore.”

“Oh.”

He found some comfort in the regret and understanding in Sebastian’s voice.

“Let’s get the rest of this gear on the island. If I bring you and Michael onto the island, you can reach over and bring the others. I know the Knife wants to bring his horse, but I’m not sure how to get the animal to step up in a way that will put it on the island.”

“Jeb suggested planks. Bring them on the island, then set them down at the edge. He thinks it will work like a common bridge.”

“It might. Give it a try. I want a word with Mother before we go.”

Brushing past Zhahar, aware now why her mothers watched him so closely, Lee stepped onto the island, then brought Michael and Sebastian over before he returned to the land around Nadia’s house.

“I’ll give the boys a hand with these planks,” Jeb said. “Travel lightly, Lee.”

“Thanks, Jeb.”

“You have everything you need?” Nadia asked. “The eyedrops?”

He nodded. “All stored away.” He hugged her, holding on a little longer than he used to when he headed out to check bridges. “I’ll find Glorianna and bring her home.”

Nadia eased back a little. “It’s as easy as taking a step between here and there for Glorianna to return to the Island in the Mist.”

“Even a Landscaper can get lost in the landscapes.”

She pressed a hand to one of his cheeks and kissed the other. “Travel lightly. And if you can’t find your way back to this home, build another. Build a good life for yourself.”

“As long as the island and I resonate with each other, I’ll find my way back, whether I build another home or not. Count on it.” He hugged her again, then hugged Lynnea and Caitlin—and even Teaser, because the incubus was looking oddly vulnerable.

When he returned to the spot where the island rested above Aurora, everyone else was gone and Jeb was removing the planks.

“Horse did just fine,” Jeb said. He hesitated, then added, “You might want to emphasize that a tangle of emotions isn’t going to help you get anywhere.”

“Ah, daylight.” Lee stepped up and almost smacked into Morragen.

“We’re coming with you,” she said.

“What a surprise.” He started to brush past her, then stopped. “‘Let your heart travel lightly’ isn’t just a phrase, Morragen. Not here. If your heart can’t do that right now, get off the island. We don’t need to end up in one of the dark landscapes.”

“We’ve seen dark landscapes.”

“You’re still alive, so you haven’t seen anything.”

He left her standing there as he made his way to the center of the island. Hopefully, the sound of the fountain would help Kobrah guide him to The Temples—the place in the heart of Vision where the Shamans lived.

After a short break, the Shamans and their visitors reconvened in an open-air pavilion that had netting instead of walls.

Sitting between Glorianna and Yoshani, Danyal told the Council about coming face-to-face with the wizards and the Dark Guide, and how Ephemera had shifted him to another landscape to escape them, and how that, in turn, led him to meeting Glorianna, Yoshani, Michael, and Sebastian. He told them how the wind chime provided a way back to Vision.

When he finished speaking, he saw hope in close to two-thirds of the Shamans’ faces. He saw bright excitement in Farzeen’s eyes, despite his mentor’s calm expression. He saw caution in the other faces—and suppressed resentment on the face of the Shaman elder whose apprentice had not been successful in completing the training and had settled for a job as a groundskeeper in order to continue living in the Shamans’ compound.

Farzeen and Jasper had been rivals when they were young men beginning the Shamans’ work, although Farzeen had always said it was a friendly rivalry. But when Jasper had taken Racket as an apprentice at the same time Farzeen had taken Danyal, it seemed the merit of the students became another proving ground, another avenue for the older men’s rivalry.

“Was it ever a friendly rivalry?” he whispered.

“Perhaps on one side,” Glorianna whispered back. “But not on the other.”

He looked at her and wondered what she heard in this place that he didn’t—or couldn’t.

Jasper straightened up and sniffed loudly. “A pretty story that tries to justify Danyal’s neglect of his duties, but it doesn’t provide any information on how to rid ourselves of this evil that now walks among us.”

“Hardly a pretty story, Jasper,” Farzeen said. “And it seems to me that Danyal has done what we asked him to do. Find answers. Find help.” He smiled at Glorianna and Yoshani. “The wisdom our guests bring is a blessing on our city.”

Other council members shifted uncomfortably when Jasper twisted to stare at Farzeen.

“Shamans!” Racket yanked the netting aside and bounded into the pavilion. “It’s happened again!”

“The council is still meeting on another matter, Racket,” Farzeen said, his voice gentle.

“Of course,” Jasper snapped. “Make sure your favorite is heard and ignore everyone else!”

“What has happened?” Yoshani asked.

“I filled six pails full of water, and when I turned away for just a moment, they were gone. Six pails!” Racket pointed at Danyal. “This didn’t happen before he was given that special assignment.”

???

Danyal closed his eyes. Twenty-five years and some things didn’t change. Maybe they couldn’t change.

“I regret that the pails were lost, Racket,” Danyal said.

“Be careful,” Glorianna whispered.

“They weren’t lost, they were taken,” Racket snapped. “I wasn’t careless, Danyal. I’m never careless.”

Now wasn’t the time to remind the man about his behavior as a youth. One of the reasons Racket didn’t become a full Shaman was his assumption that the truth wasn’t necessary if it became inconvenient or might require him to accept responsibility for his actions.

He shouldn’t allow it to matter, but his hip ached from sitting on a hard bench, and he was tired. And that made him imprudent, despite Glorianna’s warning.

“I regret that the pails were lost,” he said again, then raised his voice to drown out Racket’s immediate protest. “I wish I had a basket of coins to give you so that you could buy new ones, but…”

Glorianna sighed as the first coin broke through the pavilion’s flooring between his feet.

“Ah.” Danyal looked at Glorianna, considered the heat in her green eyes, and leaned toward Yoshani while coins continued to wiggle out of the break in the floor.

“Shall I fetch a basket?” Yoshani asked as he rose and walked to the end of the pavilion that held a table of food and drink.

“A small one,” she replied. Then Racket darted forward to grab some of the coins. A plant unlike anything Danyal had ever seen shot out of the flooring and covered the coins. It looked like a delicate green netting until he noticed the short, hair-thin needles that would easily pierce skin.

Sinuous thorn trees, their branches dipped in thunderous Light.

His breath caught. This was what Michael and Sebastian had feared—that something would happen that would call to the dark side of Glorianna Belladonna.

“Those are not for you,” she said.

“But Danyal said…” Racket began.

“Not. For. You.”

Danyal saw Yoshani whirl at the change in her voice, saw the holy man pale. But Yoshani grabbed a small basket, emptying its fruit into another container before hurrying back to them.

The plant pushed against Danyal’s shoes, as if poking at the seams to find a weak spot it could slip into. He didn’t want to think of what might happen to his feet if the plant did reach skin.

“Guide of the Heart,” he said quietly, “I am your apprentice. I have erred and ask for your forgiveness—and your help.”

There was no heat in her eyes now. They were filled with a cold indifference that frightened him more than if he saw active cruelty.

“I have the basket, Glorianna Dark and Wise,” Yoshani said.

She breathed in slowly. Breathed out slowly. And whispered, “Ephemera, hear me.”

The delicate green netting receded into the break in the floor, leaving the coins exposed. Moments later, a small, bedraggled violet pushed out of the floor.

Smiling, Glorianna leaned over and brushed one of the violet’s flowers with a finger. Then she picked up a coin and said, “A blessing on the person who gave us this coin, whether the giving was done knowingly or not.” She put the coin in the basket Yoshani held and looked at Danyal.

He reached for a coin, hesitated long enough to make sure the violet wasn’t going to turn into something else and hurt him, then picked it up and repeated her words.

She picked up another coin. “A kindness to the person who gave us this coin, whether the giving was done knowingly or not.”

Again, Danyal picked up a coin and repeated her words. They continued this until all the coins had been picked up.

She studied the last coin, then closed her hand around it and sat up.

Danyal hadn’t dared look at the members of the council while he followed her lead. Now he looked at Farzeen. The old man was pale and trembling but still more composed than the others.

Jasper wiped a shaking hand across his mouth as he stared at Danyal. “What are you?”

“A Voice-guide,” Glorianna Belladonna replied. “A true voice of the world. The Shamans are the bedrock and the sieve for this part of Ephemera. Their hearts keep the world balanced.” She looked at Jasper, then at Racket. “But when their hearts are out of balance, shifts can occur in a landscape.”

The council members looked at one another, but no one spoke. So it was Yoshani who asked, “Are you saying the Shaman Council brought the wizards and the Dark Guide to Vision?”

“This council allowed it to happen, but it was these men”—Glorianna pointed at Jasper and then at Racket—“who fed the Dark currents in this Place of Light. When the current couldn’t expand to hold those dark feelings, Ephemera channeled that darkness to another part of the city, changing the resonance there just enough to let in something that also resonated with that kind of darkness.”

“The wizards,” Danyal said, feeling chilled.

“The wizards,” she agreed. “And once they were able to put down roots here, the resonance changed a little more—enough for the Dark Guide to cross over.”

“Lies,” Jasper spat. “All lies!”

“Your heart has no secrets, Shaman,” Belladonna said. “That your heart keeps calling to this side of me is clear warning that you do not belong in a Place of Light. Can’t belong in a Place of Light. Won’t touch this Place of Light anymore.”

???

“Glorianna!” Yoshani shouted, dropping the basket and reaching for her.

Danyal felt the ground sway as air rushed over him. He grabbed for her hand, not sure if he wanted to protect her or if he wanted contact because some part of him knew she was the one constant in the world at that moment.

Then…nothing. Except the place didn’t feel the same. Not so bright. More ordinary.

It’s no longer a Place of Light, he thought, stunned by how quickly she could reshape the world—and terrified when he realized this was the same power that had awakened inside him.

“Glorianna.” Yoshani knelt before her and took her other hand. “The Light needs to be nurtured. It needs Guardians.”

“Those who should find it will find it,” she replied.

Danyal relaxed enough to breathe again when Yoshani smiled and said, “Ah. So it will be.”

Glorianna stood up and smiled at Farzeen. “Has anything else changed in your city lately?”

“There is the place of sand that appeared a few days ago,” he replied. “Part of the retaining wall around the southern end of The Temples broke, and when men went to repair it, they found the sand.”

Her smile faded. “What kind of sand?”

maker

Danyal frowned. “Maker sand?”

yes yes yes

She huffed out a sigh. “All right. Let’s go see this sand.” Then she added, “And I hope you and Lee reached some agreement about what you’re doing.”

“I…We…” When had he and Lee ever talked about sand? And what was maker sand?

“I would like to accompany you,” Farzeen said. “Your words have stirred up much, Guide. I strive to understand.”

“We should get a pony cart,” Danyal said. “It’s a sufficient walk to reach the southern end of our community.”

Glorianna nodded. “All right.”

“Abomination,” Jasper said, taking a stagger-step toward her.

Danyal tensed as he felt something dark swirl past him.

“Don’t,” Glorianna whispered.

Jasper pointed a shaking finger at her. “Defiler of the Light! You should be locked away where—”

A thorn tree with sinuous limbs burst out of the floor at the same moment a violent wind shook the pavilion and ripped tiles from the roof. In a heartbeat, a limb coiled around Jasper as the tree swiftly grew toward the ceiling.

“No!” Glorianna yelled. “Ephemera, no!”

Jasper screamed as he hung above the floor.

Danyal stared. The coils were still loose; the thorns barely penetrating beneath the skin. But if those coils tightened…

“Let him go,” Glorianna said firmly. “He has no power over me. He has no power over Voice-guide. He can’t take either of us away from you.”

Danyal jerked when she elbowed him in the ribs. “Yes,” he stammered. “Shaman Jasper has no say in what I do with my life, and I have chosen to be Voice-guide and learn from the Guide. We do not want darkness here. Let this man go.”

Slowly, the limb uncoiled, lowering Jasper to the broken floor. When the last coil released him, the Shamans glanced at Glorianna, who nodded, before rushing over to Jasper and half dragging him out of the thorn tree’s reach. Yoshani ushered the other council members out of the pavilion.

“Now take the thorn tree back to its dark landscape so that I can look at this sand you made for Voice-guide,” Glorianna said when she and Danyal were the only ones left.

A moment’s resistance, as if the world still wanted to lash out. Then the tree withdrew, like the plant had withdrawn, leaving no trace of what had broken the pavilion’s floor.

“Where does that tree come from?” Danyal asked.

Silence. Then she said, “It comes from a landscape that belongs to the Eater of the World.” She walked out of the pavilion.

Danyal remained, staring at the broken floor.

The Shaman Council had sent him out to find answers, and he had found them.

Voice of the world. Shamans had been called that for generations, but he truly was a voice of the world.

And the world was not always gentle or kind.

He walked out of the pavilion and joined the others, painfully aware that he no longer belonged with the other Shamans and would never again be considered one of them.